


Disarm

by ChronicLegCrampSince99



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicLegCrampSince99/pseuds/ChronicLegCrampSince99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could talk over a camp-fire one night, possibly lead to? Merdred. Enjoy!<br/>Rated M just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer: Merlin and all its characters do not belong to me*

* * *

For the forth time in the past five minutes, Merlin felt his gaze stray towards the druid, who was no longer a boy. Mordred sat across the campfire from the warlock, the flames flickering in his crystal-clear, blue eyes. Those eyes- that gave away nothing and everything all at the same time- had already been studying Merlin and captured his gaze the moment it'd wandered back in the druid's direction.

_'Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you all in your sleep,'_

Mordred's voice sifted into Merlin's mind like the tide rolling in over sandy shore.

_'I should hope not,'_  the warlock thought back dryly, glaring mildly when the druid chuckled under his breath in response.

_'Get some rest, Merlin. You look tired,'_  Mordred said softly, a small smile gracing his face, as he tossed odd bits of twigs and stones at the campfire. Merlin pulled his cotton blanket closer around his thin frame, pursing his lips slightly.

_'I'm fine,'_

Mordred gave Merlin a long look before relenting and curling up on his side, facing away from him.  _'You are so stubborn…'_

_'I prefer to think of myself as headstrong,'_  the warlock replied, his eyes trained on the druids back.

_'Is that so…'_  Merlin frowned a little, forcing his gaze back to the quickly dwindling, flames. Casting a quick look about him, he raised his hand towards the fire and wearily murmured a spell; the second his eyes flashed gold, the flames gave a sudden leap and then settled back into a comfortable burn.  _'Are you really planning on staying up all night?'_

_'Maybe, maybe not,'_ the warlock answered carefully, before he made his tone take on a reassuring note that didn't quite sound right.  _'You've no need to worry about me,'_

_'I always worry about you,'_ Merlin's eyes flew back to Mordred as the words echoed around the inside of his head. He allowed himself a couple stunned blinks, before he tried to clear his mind to make a coherent response.

_'…You do?'_

Silence. It settled over his thoughts like a veil, obstructing them from view and deafening the warlock with its emptiness.

_'You are the chosen one after all,'_  Mordred threw out then, jolting Merlin out of his frustration.  _'I was so honoured when I first met you. But then I realised,'_

_'Realised what?'_  the warlock pressed ever so gently, as if he were approaching a stray cat.

_'I realised you were just like me and everyone else: human.'_  The purr of the druid's voice through his head was almost maddening; it made Merlin feel- not for the first time- like Mordred was not only prying into his mind, but staring into his very soul. It was unnerving and it prickled the hairs on the back of the warlock's neck, but blood crept along his high, pronounced cheekbones, at the understanding behind the others words.

_'And are you disappointed?'_  he asked faintly, as he watched Mordred's steady breathing.

_'No. Not at all,'_  Merlin let out the breath he'd been holding and it came out as a white cloud, due to the temperature.  _'At least, I wasn't,'_  the warlock looked away, chewing on his bottom lip.

_'What do you expect?'_  he returned, tone bitter.

_'I have learnt to expect nothing from you, Merlin.'_  The druid answered, evenly.

_'Why do you keep calling me that?'_  the warlock blurted into Mordred's mind without warning. There was an awkward pause- for Merlin, that is.

_'Does that bother you?'_  the druid said in an irritatingly, serene voice.

_'Like you don't already know-'_

_'Actually, I don't.'_  Mordred replied, before Merlin had finished his sentence. _'Believe it or not, I don't spend my free time rummaging through other peoples minds,'_ the warlock took up picking invisible dirt off of his blanket, focusing all his attention on not looking at the druid. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mordred pull himself back up into a sitting position.

"No wonder you look so tired,"

"Are you going to elaborate, or are we just going to throw out random statements like, 'I wonder why the sky's blue'?" the warlock said sarcastically, distracting himself by picking up a nearby stick and stoking the fire. He could sense his companions eyes boring into his face and had the feeling that if he lifted his own to meet them, it would blind him, as if he were staring into the sun.

"It seems, that as Morgana is consumed by her hatred, you are consumed by your suspicion and fear," the warlocks gaze cut to the druids. Merlin tried to swallow against the lump stuck in his throat; he didn't know which was worse, hearing Mordred speak aloud, or in his head. There was a kind of texture to the younger mans voice, which made it all the more resonating. Hearing him speak was the equivalent of having someone run their finger down the length of your spine. Although Merlin was inclined to think of this as a bad thing, a nugget of doubt existed at the core of his being.

"I'm not 'consumed' by it-" the warlock began, desperately trying to break the others hold of his gaze.

" _Merlin!_ " a voice hissed under its breath from somewhere behind him. "You do realise, that some of us  _are_  trying to sleep,"

"My apologies Sire," the warlock sent Arthur an apologetic grimace, quietly relieved to be free of Mordred's eyes.

"Make sure he doesn't do anything unusually stupid will you, Mordred?" the person in question chuckled behind his fist, but the tension in his shoulders remained.

"My Lord," once the King had closed his eyes again, Merlin drew his legs up and rested his chin on his knees, studiously ignoring the druid. Mordred made no move to continue the conversation, although he went on watching the fire crackle between them.

* * *

It wasn't long afterwards, that Merlin got to his feet and as stealthily as he could, walked a little away from the campsite. He knew Mordred had followed him, but if things came to blows- or magic- the warlock wasn't worried here, away from the others and more importantly, Arthur.

"Just one reason," the druid said outright; the warlock leant his arm against a nearby tree, choosing not to turn and face him. "One reason, why it is that you despise me so?"

"Despise you…" Merlin repeated, shaking his head and suppressing the absurd urge to laugh. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"Tell me," the druid replied, moving to stand at the warlock's right shoulder.

"This is so much bigger than just you and me," Merlin said, turning his head to meet the shorter mans unwavering, crystal blue gaze. "I am wary of you. Wary, because I've seen too much and you know too little,"

"And you willingly carry everything on your shoulders, too proud to ask for help," Mordred murmured, smiling sadly up at the older of the two. "Imagine for one moment, that this bigger picture you speak off doesn't exist and there is only you and I," Merlin smiled, averting his eyes from Mordred's painfully, innocent naivety. It was times like these that Merlin felt as though they'd been transported back in time, to when Mordred really was nothing more than a small druid boy. But that wasn't true; he was never just any druid boy- his destiny had been decided before he was even born, just like Merlin's.

"That's impossible," the warlock said eventually, breathing in and out, deeply.

"You haven't even tried," the druid stated, his eyes widening ever so slightly. A frown formed on the warlocks face, as he detected a subtle change in the atmosphere and noticed the proximity of their bodies.

"We, er…we better be getting back…" a brush of scarlet spread across Merlin's face, as he avoided eye-contact.

"Why?" Mordred asked, his voice questionably deep. He stepped into Merlin's path when he made to walk passed. "Why?"

"What are you doing?" the warlock struggled to hold the shorter mans gaze, as his breathing grew thin.

"Don't pretend like you don't know," Mordred murmured firmly, managing to look both determined and vulnerable at the same time. "I am not imagining this." he added, insistently. His face was so close to the warlocks that they were exchanging carbon dioxide.

"Imagining what?" Merlin hedged, attempting and failing to side step the druid.

"Yesterday, when myself and the King were training together, whose welfare were you more concerned for- even for just a moment?" Mordred asked, his expression so intense that it was almost too much for Merlin to bear.

"Wait, so you  _have_  dug through my mind then?" the warlock countered, momentarily forgetting that their mouths were inches apart. "Go on, admit it,"

"You were thinking so loud, you may as well have been shouting," the druid returned, patiently. Merlin felt himself flush and hated himself for it.

"Yes, well…you didn't deny it," Merlin began, self-consciously folding his arms- quite an achievement considering the circumstances.

_'Emrys.'_

"What do you want from me?" the warlock shot back, not liking the way the druid said his true name- not that he ever had. Mordred leaned up, obviously meaning to close the gap between them. Merlin told himself that he was feeling panic and nothing more; his eyes involuntarily fluttered shut and his heart was hammering against his chest, blood rushing through his ears. In his minds eye, he could almost feel Mordred's lips, even though they had yet to connect with his. Both a minute and an eternity went by. Frowning, the warlock opened his eyes to find himself standing alone.

On the way back to the camp, he decided what he was feeling now, was definitely not disappointment. When he reached the others the druid was seemingly fast asleep, in the same spot he'd been in earlier and the fire had died, only embers and ash remaining. Merlin didn't bother restarting it, he simply wrapped himself back up in his blanket and lay down on his front, using his arm as a cushion.

* * *

The next morning, he woke from a dream in which he was laying in a bed of thorny, blood-red roses, with Mordred half on top of him, deep in sleep, his head resting over the warlock's heart and a peaceful expression lighting his features, with the help of the full moon, which hung in the starless sky above them. Looking across at the druid through the frosty morning air, he could just make out the exact look that he'd worn in the dream. Through his bafflement, Merlin felt his lips curl up at the corners into a smile- a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

It was the following evening and Merlin, along with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table had arrived back in Camelot, from their two-day hunting trip. The warlock had been ordered to clean and polish everyone's armour almost the second he'd dismounted from his horse and had only just finished. It was coming up to midnight and Merlin was walking through the castle, heading home.

_'Merlin,'_  the thought brushed gently against the inside of the warlocks head. He froze, his forehead automatically creasing as he suppressed a shiver. "May I speak with you a moment?"

"Actually, I was just leaving…" the warlock began, turning to face the druid, reluctantly. Mordred wore thin cotton trousers, a loose shirt open at the neck, and his feet were bare; it bothered Merlin how at home the druid seemed to be. Mordred's thick, brown locks were more unruly than usual, as if he'd been tossing and turning in bed, deprived of sleep. "Is it something important?"

"I cannot sleep," Mordred admitted, a bashful smile appearing on his face, as he gazed across the expanse of space that stretched out between them. "I'm finding it hard adjusting to such exceptional conditions,"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Merlin offered awkwardly, taking a step back, making to walk away.

_'Emrys.'_  The warlock locked gazes with the druid without thinking and the air left his lungs.  _'I already feel out of place here; why do you act as though we are not one and the same? If there is anyone here that would readily accept me, it is you and yet you strive to make me feel as unwelcome as possible. Unwanted.'_

"I assure you, that is not my intention," Merlin began in a formal manner, lowering his eyes to the floor at Mordred's feet. "I'm sorry if I have hurt your feelings." He nodded once at the druid, before turning his back and starting down the corridor.

"Emrys." The warlock spun around so fast that he nearly strained his neck.

"Do not speak my name." Mordred quietly studied the older mans stern expression, his own face as unreadable as ever.

_'You cannot ignore me forever.'_  The druid's voice was soft and dangerous, rebounding off the walls of Merlin's mind.

_'I don't doubt that. You're impossible to ignore,'_  he thought back, just as softly.

_'Then indulge me with your company,'_  the druid moved back to his bedroom door, placing one foot inside and resting his left hand on the doorframe. His watchful, blue eyes were on the warlock, expectant.  _'Just this once…'_  Merlin exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Fine," he said finally, striding down the hall and following the druid into his bedchamber.

* * *

Inside, Mordred sat cross-legged, on the floor at the foot of his bed. He gestured for Merlin to join him, the hint of a smile gracing his face. The warlock brushed him off and remained standing, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall opposite. The druids smile hardened ever so slightly, but the older man noticed.

"I can't stay long. It's already late and I need to be up early, as you well know,"

"I would never dream of taking up so much of your precious time," the words seemed double-edged to Merlin, but Mordred's tone and expression were annoyingly sincere. Merlin wondered if he'd ever understand the druid at all, let alone guess at his thoughts.

"I am the Kings manservant," he replied, off-handed. Mordred gracefully rose to his feet and approached the older man, not stopping until there was only a thin strip of air between them.

_'That may be so. But you do not belong to him,'_  he murmured into the warlocks head, looking up at him intensely.

"No…" Merlin agreed hesitantly, his face reddening as he held the younger mans gaze. A predatory smirk flashed upon the druids face, as he leant in and to the side, his mouth hovering by Merlin's left ear.

_"I need you, Emrys,"_  he spoke aloud and in the warlocks head, simultaneously. The latter's lips parted in alarm and from lack of oxygen, as Mordred's breath on his skin sent tingles down his spine.  _"I want you,"_  and then the druid pressed a feather-light kiss to the hollow beneath his ear.

"Mordred!" Merlin brought his hands up to the druid's shoulders, meaning to push him away, but as quickly as the response had come, it drifted away and the warlock found his eyes falling closed. Mordred trailed velvet kisses up to Merlin's jaw and then along to his waiting lips, where he paused. His right hand was on the warlock's chest over his heart, pinning him to the wall; he lifted his free hand and slowly traced the shape of the older mans lips, with his index finger. Merlin kept his eyes shut, his head throbbing with the younger man's desire. If he met the druid's mesmerising gaze now, he would be forced to admit that part of the want aching within his mind, was his own. Mordred flicked his tongue over his prey's mouth, in an absently curious fashion, causing the receivers heart to skip a beat.

_'Why are you doing this…?'_  the warlock half begged, as the druid wound his left hand into his dark hair. Mordred leant his forehead on Merlin's, so that their noses were touching and stared at his eyelids, mentally willing them to reveal the intelligent, piercing blue eyes underneath.

_'Because, Emrys…'_

_'…Yes?'_

_'In my eyes, you are perfect.'_ The druid claimed the object of his affections mouth. Instantaneously, even as he had instigated the whole sequence of events, the moment their lips collided, he gave himself up to the warlock's control. And Merlin didn't waste any time. In the blink of an eye, they had completely undergone a role-reversal: Mordred's back was against the wall and Merlin was the one holding him there. The warlock was like a man possessed; his tongue hungrily slid in and out of the younger mans appreciative mouth. The druid curled against the warlock the best he could, securing his arms around his neck and fastening his fingers into the fabric of his shirt-collar. Merlin was gasping, his nails raking up and down Mordred's sides under his shirt, when he registered that his cheeks were soaking up the druid's tears.

_'Why…are you…crying…?'_  he just about managed to write on the back of Mordred's eyelids. The person in question attempted to pull the warlock closer still, as the pair continued to feed off of each others mouths.

_'I am happy.'_  The druid's voice was just a whisper, teasing the edges of Merlin's thoughts. Merlin felt himself smile against the druids lips, as he listened to the hicks in the younger mans breathing.

_'Mordred.'_  The warlock began chanting, as he freed the druid's lips and ran his tongue down his neck, pushing his shirt aside and biting down on Mordred's shoulder. The druid released a wanton moan, his body practically vibrating with the beat of his heart. Gradually, Merlin dragged his hands down the druid's torso, while the latter sucked on his right earlobe. When the warlock slipped his hand into the druid's trousers and wrapped it around the younger mans pulsing member, a satisfied smirk stretched across his face. However at the same time, Mordred gave a sudden jolt.

_'Emrys.'_  The warlock's lust-filled vision cleared, as he raised his head to look down at the wide-eyed boy before him.  _'I am not…ready…'_  Merlin felt acutely ashamed of himself, as he swiftly removed his hand, heat colouring his cheekbones.

_'I'm sorry…'_

_'Don't be,'_  Mordred smiled up at him adoringly, tears still making paths down his cheeks.  _'Will you lay with me? Until I fall asleep?'_  the warlock searched the druid's hopeful expression for a few moments, before nodding.

_'Of course. I won't leave your side,'_  taking Merlin's hand in his, Mordred lead him to his bed, where he helped him undress. Lying down- the warlock on his back and the druids head resting on his chest- a blanket of tranquillity settled over the room. The younger man fell fast asleep almost immediately, leaving the older to his jumbled thoughts. It was wrong; Merlin knew it was. But in a distorted sort of way, it was so wrong that it was right. If the day should come, that Mordred would slay Arthur, the warlock would kill the druid himself. As horrifying as that thought now was to him, he knew there could be no other. Merlin would be the one to end Mordred's life, and as a part of the warlock- however miniscule it remained to be- died with him, the druid would thank him for ending whatever misery was destined to take him. Merlin ran his fingers through the younger mans hair, watching him sleep. Eventually he closed his eyes as well, letting sleep envelope him, but not before vowing, that whatever it took, he would make it so that he never had to face the druid's death.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Couldnt think of a title so I looked for a song that I thought suited these two and ended up with Disarm by Smashing Pumpkins.


End file.
